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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673262">The Night Shift</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roscommon/pseuds/Roscommon'>Roscommon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family, Friendship, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:29:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roscommon/pseuds/Roscommon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On a slow, late-night apprehension in Philadelphia, Ranger is surprised to see a girl he thinks is one of Stephanie’s nieces somewhere she really shouldn’t be at this hour. There’s no question that he’ll mobilize to keep her safe. Beyond that, he wonders if he can also steer her away from some of his own youthful mistakes. (Cross posted on fanfiction dot net.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Night Shift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A stand-alone one-shot that's not related to any other stories I've written. We already know that Ranger believes in doing what's right even if it's morally gray. On some gray nights, though, it's easy to do the right thing.</p><p>Thanks to rmt335 from fanfiction dot net for her kind beta read. She keeps me from tossing commas into my text like confetti and lets me know where things might need a bit more clarity. It’s a wonderful thing. Any remaining goofs are mine. </p><p>As always, the Stephanie Plum characters aren’t mine, any trademarks belong to their respective owners, and I make no profit. This story, though, is all mine. Please excuse any errors.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
<b>The Night Shift</b>
</h2><p>
  <span>Ranger nodded to Vince and Binky that they were free to leave since his team was now on site. And then, with quick instructions, he split from Slick and Junior so they could all begin their individual sweeps in and around the main Philadelphia Bus Station. A travel gateway, like so many urban bus stations, the building was also a tacit transition between the main urban center and the tidy, no-nonsense but gritty part of town. It was boxy and beige, and would be anonymous if not for the outsized Greyhound and Peter Pan bus signs attached to the concrete bricks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he walked toward one of the building’s side doors, a car drove by slowly in the night, its headlights diffused by the snow that was starting to come down in earnest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused just outside the sliding door, coffee in one hand, to remove his wool hat and stuff it in his coat pocket alongside his driving gloves. Under his parka, he was in full Rangeman tactical gear, disguised by the bulk of the coat. After a quick check of his surroundings, he went through the automatic door, which stayed open long enough to let gouts of cold air into the meager warmth of the station. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stomped the snow off his boots, his lips quirked up in humor. It was not a coincidence that Ranger had called the indoor sweep tonight. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One of the benefits of being in charge</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he admitted. Though, in fairness, unlike Slick and Junior, he was now starting his third shift of work. The night shift, a time when darkness repainted the world and occasional lights illuminated the unexpected. A time when most people were asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was worth it, he mused while pausing again to scan the room for tonight’s bail-jumper, Soren Jenkins. It had been obvious that Vinnie Plum was planning to give this skip, an alleged serial rapist with a decades-long rap sheet, to his cousin Stephanie. And simply put, Ranger was fed up with seeing her sent by herself to capture gang-bangers and rapists skipping on their bail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, tonight, he was content to be working. It meant that she was happily asleep in her bedroom, snoozing to the music of Rex huffing along on his wheel and the occasional hiss of her apartment’s old fashioned steam heating. And that, tomorrow, she’d have a full slate of bail-skipping shoplifters and petty thieves— along with one high-value but relatively harmless burglar formerly in Vinnie’s Rangeman queue— to fill her wallet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puffed air across his coffee. Soren Jenkins, who was at least six feet tall, 250 pounds, and blond, should be easy to spot, even if disguised. Intel strongly suggested the man was headed to Chicago for personal reasons before he tried to go incognito over the border. And, as luck would have it— or more precisely, bad aim— he’d been shot in the foot while out on bail. Which meant Jenkins couldn’t drive long distances and needed the relative anonymity that night-departure bus travel still afforded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger smiled like a wolf in the henhouse; Jenkins’ need to get out of town was another thing that would turn out to be unlucky for him. And lucky for Ranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blocking out the periodic “If you see something, say something” announcement, he strolled into the main waiting area, nodding at the station’s main security guard for the night. A portly man named Ray, the guard habitually wore a rumpled, security company uniform and was probably pulling in extra cash after retirement. What was important was that he already knew Ranger since enough skips and lowlifes made it to this station. Tonight’s visit wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing the station’s protocol, he also made his way to the short ticket line. Speaking quietly, he showed his bail-bond and apprehension paperwork to the tired, bored ticket clerk and explained his mission for the night. After a couple of questions and a nod of acknowledgement from Ray the guard, the clerk was looped into the mission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger made a show of buying a ticket, and then walked away from the ticketing area. While he walked, Slick and Junior confirmed in his ear that they had started their circuits, so he tapped his ear to activate his microphone and provide his own confirmation. He made a quick check of the men’s room. As he emerged, a woman entered the ladies’ room, so he slouched against the wall between ticketing and the seating area and waited for her to emerge. Which she did after a few moments, without a squawk. So, she likely hadn’t encountered a hulking blond man while inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was just a matter of watching the flow of people until the last bus headed toward Chicago was ready to board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>During the day, there would be a couple of lines of people between the airport-style stanchions waiting to buy tickets, dozens of passengers standing while they waited for the next bus, with dozens more seated in the green metal seats of the waiting area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This late at night, it was a different story. Near the doors, a few people huddled under drab, gray surplus blankets for warmth, sleeping until they were rousted to a different location on their nightly itinerary. A few families or groups of friends clustered while probably waiting for a red-eye bus. Keeping their mutual distance, a handful of scattered people had settled into separate locations to await their bus or perhaps to meet arriving passengers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scanned them all carefully, especially those who seemed close to the height and weight of his target. He also kept his eyes peeled for other tell-tales, such as something that was out-of-place for the role. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For example, the relatively new shoes on one of the huddled figures near the door gave him pause, but when the man glared back at him from under his blanket, Ranger could see he was too grizzled and dark skinned to be Jenkins. He knew that, while you can disguise hair color, few skips in his experience could successfully disguise the age and complexion of their entire face, neck, and hands. Beyond that, the man simply didn’t resemble any of the photos that the Trenton PD had of the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further into the room, another man seemed likely, but on closer inspection he was not nearly tall enough. Similarly, when seen up close, a large-framed, visibly pregnant woman clutching her purse was exactly what she seemed to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a bus arrival notice sounded over the loudspeakers, he sipped from his coffee, strolled toward the vending machines, and pretended to look through the selections. Meanwhile, he catalogued the people in his periphery. Again, the only man who was roughly Jenkins’ size was not a match. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His undercover instincts did, though, pick up on what looked like a drug deal being completed in a darkened interior doorway. Normally he’d alert security, who’d isolate the involved parties and then call in the cops from the surrounding neighborhood. Tonight, not wanting to spook his target, he instead walked closer to the doorway, rolling his shoulders to give himself maximum bulk, and disrupted the deal in person. He flashed his BEA badge quickly; a shiny addition to his belt, it was completely unofficial but quite effective when coupled with his grim expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The likely buyer made a big show of having been in the hallway by mistake while the dealer stared at him with a look that his Babe would call a “death glare.” Amused, Ranger pulled his jacket back further until one of his completely working and licensed handguns was visible. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, that’s what I thought</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he nodded to himself as the man snarled but nevertheless hunched his way out of the hallway and hastened toward an exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger continued to edge around the room’s perimeter. Reaching the vending machines, he paused. Just beyond the last machine, a slim, pale man with a notably dark goatee and roaming eyes was clearly watching the passenger area a few rows away from him. His gaze, more focused and obvious than Ranger’s, raised his hackles. He had the look of a pimp looking for lost youngsters to pick up and groom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger bought a pack of gum from one of the machines and then strolled past the seating area that was interesting to Mr. Goatee. He spotted a slight male figure, who looked to be anywhere from teens to twenties, slouched in a parka with a large shopping bag tucked under his knees. He was too small to be his skip, as was another nearby teenager of indeterminate gender who was dodging his gaze by retreating into a too-large brown coat and lumpy dark hat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about that brown coat tickled his memory, but his mind quickly determined that it wasn’t related to Jenkins or to the probable pimp in his periphery, so he ignored it for now. After a few moments, he’d finished his coffee and headed to a trashcan a few rows away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled out his phone as though he was reading texts or mail while he actually took a photo of Mr. Goatee. Meanwhile, a young woman walked over and took a seat in the area that the man was still watching with the attentiveness of a jackal. Bundled in a blue coat that had seen better days, her luggage consisted of an oversized canvas shopping bag. And, unsurprisingly, Ranger saw the man glide over to the woman. With a smile and a casual brush of his thumb down his slight beard, he started a conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger knew that dynamic from long experience, and stepped forward to disrupt it. Again, with a stern look, casual flash of his BEA badge and an under-his-breath comment, he managed to discourage the smaller man from his efforts. With a sneer, the man backed away toward the far exit. Ranger sent his photo to Slick and Junior outside with a note to look out for the man, in case he circled back to return. He also kept the photo to show Ray, the security guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a brief conversation with the woman that Mr. Goatee had targeted, Ranger gave her ten dollars so she could buy something from the vending machine and still have some money left over. Then he returned to his vigil against the wall. He was shadowed, partway between the seating area and the ticketing counter, with a full view of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was starting to feel the edge of night creeping under his eyes. And damn, he was tired, but it shouldn’t be too much longer. He checked his watch; there were less than forty minutes until the Chicago-bound bus they believed Jenkins wanted was scheduled to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since Slick and Junior hadn’t spotted Jenkins in their thorough sweep of the trainyard, Ranger gave his okay for them to go in shifts to canvas the still-open fast food spots on the surrounding block. Ranger knew their target might be lurking in one. Also, his team would appreciate the opportunity to get warm and maybe buy a coffee or use the restroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A boarding announcement sounded, raising a small flurry of action in the station. One of the families began to shepherd their bags toward the gate. The recently-arrived, unaccompanied girl grabbed her vending machine food and nodded her thanks before heading toward the bus exit. Meanwhile, Ranger kept a watch for other figures moving or entering the main terminal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Idle except for his eyes, he finally remembered what had been percolating in his subconscious about that one waiting passenger’s chocolate brown coat. Stephanie had a coat just like that last year, though she’d bought a new one this winter. He especially remembered it because it wasn’t a style or color he’d seen on the streets very much and he’d wondered at her eccentric fashion choice. Then he found out she’d bought the coat from a liquidation sale during a time when she didn’t have much money. He’d found a pretext to hire her shortly after that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled as he remembered the life she’d brought to his office in the deep of winter. It had been too late for her to overwhelm his spartan standards with holiday decorations but still she’d decorated her desk with colorful, non-Rangeman accessories. He’d drawn the line at Valentine’s Day decorations in the office or breakroom but yielded to the pink hearts by her desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then as soon as the weather had improved, she’d left Rangeman, returning to work for Vinnie. She was like a migrating bird. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With thoughts of that brown coat in mind, his eye was caught by the coat’s wearer in the passenger area wiping her nose on her too-long sleeve. The motion revealed enough of her profile that Ranger was sure she was a girl. One who was too young to be here by herself. She glanced toward the vending machines, started to reach under her coat, and then stopped. Probably she’d thought better of taking out money in a bus station. Well, that was smart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he considered the best way to make sure the girl was safe, he couldn’t stop thinking that there was something familiar about her. Ranger didn’t know many people in Philadelphia, let alone children. Then again, people from Trenton used this station. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, it clicked like a spark against his skin. He was almost certain it was one of Stephanie’s nieces. If so, she was only around twelve years old, so what the heck was she doing alone in Philadelphia in the middle of the night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now that he looked closely, she had all the earmarks of a teenager running away from home. He had to give her credit for getting this far on her own. And yet it was emphatically </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a situation anyone at her age should be in, especially by herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Backing further into the shadows he tapped his microphone and asked for Slick’s help in keeping an eye on Stephanie’s possible niece, even though it would split his team temporarily. Slick was the youngest and smallest among them tonight, would be the least threatening, and could keep a tacit watch over the girl while Ranger arranged a few things in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few moments later, Slick came in one of the station’s front doors with a steaming 24-hour donut shop coffee cup in his hand and a brown bag. Ranger gestured toward the girl with his chin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Momentarily freed, he stepped outside of the terminal for a quick call to Rangeman’s control room. Tonight’s senior-on-call, Ram, answered and quickly checked that there hadn’t been any Missing Persons calls to the Trenton PD this evening. Not dropping a beat, Ram said he was already sending Hank to check out Stephanie’s sister’s place and listen for whether they had misplaced a daughter. He also volunteered to send Chester Deuce on a drive-by to Stephanie’s parents’ house to see if they were stirring unexpectedly at this late hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in the station, he strolled over to Ray, the security guard. With the efficiency of two professionals, he shared the picture he’d taken of Mr. Goatee so station security could keep an eye out for him. He then quietly explained that, while waiting for his skip, he’d spotted what seemed to be a friend’s daughter in the terminal. He pointed out Angie and Slick who, by that point, had grabbed a bus schedule from a kiosk in front and had strolled near where the girl was sitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the wary look on Ray’s face, Ranger volunteered that he’d keep Ray in the loop and would make sure Ray spoke with the girl and the family member— and saw IDs— before letting the girl leave with anyone. On the off chance that the girl turned out to not be Stephanie’s niece, he’d tell Ray and turn the situation over to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Ray nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, Ranger returned to a spot near the aisle where Slick was now casually seated diagonally across from the girl huddled in her brown coat and lumpy hat. Seemingly absorbed in his bus schedule, he checked the ceiling departure board and sipped his coffee. Leaning back, he opened his bag and fished through its contents with a frown. Finally, he pulled out a donut and took a bite. And just like hooking a fish he had the girl’s attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With skill that made Ranger proud, Slick looked up with an innocent blink and then held up the bag. “Want one? It looks like they gave me a Boston Cream or something like that instead of a Butternut like I requested.” He leaned over, stretching to put the bag in her reach. The girl pulled her coat further around herself, suspicion plain in her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s up to you. Here, I’ll put it on this napkin and you can have it if you want. I’m not going to eat it either way.” He leaned over and put the donut on the chair next to the girl. “Oh. Wait.” Slick reached for the donut and picked it up, pulling off a piece. “Here, I’ll eat a bit so you know it’s not drugged or something.” He stuffed it in his mouth and made a show of chewing and swallowing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then proceeded to eat his own donut. With a sly glance Ranger’s way, he said that his girlfriend “Ricky” kept him on a strict diet, so when he was away from home he used his business per-diem to splurge on junk food. Ranger merely glared, suppressing his amusement at Slick’s jab. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the girl reached tentatively for the donut, Slick started talking about his family and a movie that his younger sister had made him see. After a few moments, the girl’s face lifted in a tentative smile as she leaned toward the donut waiting for her.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing more of her face, Ranger could tell that she was, indeed, Stephanie’s eldest niece. The one who didn’t whinny or pretend to trot everywhere she went. Abbie maybe? No, Angie. Strolling back outside he texted Ram to send Chester Deuce over to Stephanie’s apartment. Then, still standing on the outside platform in the fine, sifting snowfall, he called Stephanie’s number. </span>
</p><p><span>“Lo?” her sleep thickened voice answered the phone. The one he knew she kept under her pillow with the ringer turned to maximum volume so it would wake her. “Ranger? Is that you?”</span><span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span><span>“Yo Babe,” he replied. “Sorry to wake you but I have a situation where I need your help.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m all ears,” she replied. He could hear her covers shift while she sat up and turned on her light. Once again he marveled that, without knowing anything, she was getting ready to help him just because he asked. She was unaware of just how special she was.  And again he wished he could persuade her to end her migratory ways and settle down with a job at Rangeman. His quiet, inner voice added that it would also be a job where he wouldn’t have to make excuses and needless trips to Plum Bonds to see her every day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exhaled; that was a thought for a different time and place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, while he listened to the sounds of her getting ready in her distant apartment, he explained that her eldest niece was here in Philadelphia by herself. And that he was sending Chester Deuce to bring her to the station to pick the girl up and take her home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As was her usual, still surprising habit, Stephanie agreed to his plan without hesitation. She also accepted his reasons for calling her rather than Valerie. Though she might love her family, she was smart enough to understand that not everyone had the same tastes in familial dithering and chaos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Ranger,” she had the presence of mind to ask, “what if Valerie wakes up and finds that Angie’s missing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hank is near their house. He says nobody’s stirring. And nobody’s called it in. You probably can get her back before they notice she’s missing, since it’s night and nobody’s on the road.” He checked his watch. “You should be able to get here and back long before 3:30 AM.” Even with the snow the drive each way was only about twenty five minutes at this hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no worries then,” she replied. “The whole family sleeps like Rip Van Winkle until the alarms go off. Well, actually, until after the snooze alarms have driven everyone nuts and the baby has started to howl. Let’s just say that I’m the light sleeper in the family,” she chuckled, slurping what was probably her just-brewed cup of coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger silently agreed that, if Stephanie was the light sleeper in the family, her sister’s brood would likely remain asleep while looters ran through the house during a fire alarm. He was wise enough, though, to not say that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie’s voice interrupted his musing. “Oh, someone’s knocking. It must be Chester Dee Stallion,” she used her nickname for Chester Deuce; the one that only she was allowed to use. And how did she always manage to wrap Rangeman’s tough, no nonsense men around her finger that way?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see him through the peephole,” she reported diligently, actually impressing him with her security instinct. “Should I stay on the phone while we drive there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m going back inside to keep your niece company. Do me a favor, though. Call the main Philadelphia Bus Station and tell them that you’re coming to pick up your niece in the big brown coat, who’s being protected by your family friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it in one. Actually, say my name too. Security here knows who I am.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she said while clacking open her numerous, completely-useless door locks. Then, quietly she added, “Just keep Angie safe, okay? She’s a lot braver than she ought to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That certainly ran in the family, he thought with indulgence. Out loud he simply promised, “You know I’ll keep her safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s what you do,” she replied with her heartwarming, absolute faith. As she spoke, her door opened in the background and Chester Deuce’s deep voice rumbled over the phone. “Hi,” her muffled voice greeted the man at her door, and immediately afterward she said “And bye,” directly into the phone to end the call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled briefly while pocketing his phone and then nodded at Junior in his periphery. “Anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No sign of Jenkins yet,” Junior admitted with a dark scowl. “We’ll get that SOB, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger nodded. “The last bus for Chicago leaves fairly soon, so we’ll stay at least until then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” Junior agreed while Ranger continued planning. He’d queue up another team to monitor the pre-dawn buses if they didn’t catch the man tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both men parted ways; Junior back to the perimeter of the bus station, Ranger back inside into the waiting area. He made his way to the aisle behind Angie and caught Slick’s gaze. His man was sitting back, long legs stretched out to partially block the aisle, while he pretended to read his phone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As another “see something, say something” announcement droned, Ranger quietly stepped forward and then slid into a seat at the far end of the aisle from Slick. He figured it was distant enough from Stephanie’s niece to reduce his menace. He waited for a few moments after the announcement’s end before speaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, you’re Angie, right?” his voice gently interrupted the quiet around them. The girl tensed under her coat, turning to stare at him with wide, apprehensive eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name’s Ranger. I’ve met you before with your Aunt Stephanie,” he said as kindly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who sent you here?” she demanded, as testy as a skip who thought she’d stayed well hidden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody sent me,” he said mildly. “I happened to be here on a job. Then I spotted you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, now I’m busted?” her eyes narrowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on your point of view, I guess,” he replied with a vague smile. “I prefer to think of it as having company to fill the hours of a late night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his ear, he heard Junior ask for backup to inspect a structure behind one of the bus parking areas, and could tell Slick heard him as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking advantage of another announced departure, Slick stood. “You gonna be okay?” he asked Angie calmly, acting as though he didn’t know Ranger. No point to spook her any further. Since Slick was obliquely asking Ranger, as well, he nodded when Slick briefly caught his gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Angie replied to Slick with a huff. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice meeting you, then. Take care,” Slick said with a nod, heading toward the buses as though he was about to board. And toward Junior, as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the resulting quiet, Ranger glanced around and then commented, “In my job I spend a lot of time in places like this because my job is to catch people who are trying to run from the law. Bus stations are one of the places they go, especially at night.” He paused waiting for her to reply. When she didn’t, he added, “So, you want to be careful in a place like this. Tonight I’m here to catch a man who attacks women. And I’ve already chased out another guy who preys on teenagers like you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her green eyes glaring at him from within her overlarge, brown coat and dark hat, she was like an angry lynx waiting to swipe at him with her claws. “That guy who just left was nice,” she objected, as though defending both her judgment and Slick’s honor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded agreement. You’re a good judge of people, just like your aunt. But this still isn’t a safe place for a young person traveling alone at night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well whatever.” She pulled Stephanie’s old coat close. “I’m here anyway and I already bought my ticket. Do I have to yell that you’re a perve and a weirdo and get you arrested or something? Or are you gonna let me get on my bus when it’s announced?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. He liked her spirit. “No, I’m going to wait here with you until your Aunt Stephanie arrives. She’s on her way. I figure she’ll be able to help smooth things over with your mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.” She leaned forward as though ready to make a move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angie,” he lifted his hand in a vague </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop </span>
  </em>
  <span>gesture. “Station security and the ticket seller all know that I’m here protecting you until your aunt arrives.” It was close enough to true. And, regardless, he was there to protect her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, freeing a few strands of light brown hair from under her oversized hat. “What? So in addition to being grounded for the rest of my life until I become some kind of gray haired shut-in even nuttier than my Great Grandma Mazur…” she paused for a breath. “Now I’m out the bus fare money, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She paused for another fierce breath then, leaning forward, kept her momentum. “I saved up my allowance for months and skimped on school lunches. I even shoveled old Mrs. Howell’s driveway and her stupid outside slate stairs for cash.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Ranger was impressed with this slip of a girl. But, in his experience, if she stayed focused on the unfairness of losing her money she might never deal with the underlying issue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure we can find a way to get some type of refund,” he reassured her. And, honestly, a bus ticket to California probably cost a fortune to her but not so much to someone like him. He wasn’t even worried whether they could get a refund from the bus company. He’d talk it over with Stephanie to find out the best way to finesse restoring her money. Glossing over all of that, he simply added. “Just hang on to your ticket, for now, and I’ll help your Aunt Stephanie get it taken care of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” She settled back, her lips pressed firmly in a scowl. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amused at this fury of a child-woman who had no fear of him, he could tell that she was used to applying her will to get what she wanted without worrying about the consequences. That was an approach he recognized from his younger days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a brief pause provided by an overhead announcement, he tilted his head in consideration. Angie wasn’t his family— she certainly wasn’t his to lecture— but she was someone about whom Stephanie cared. Perhaps more importantly, she was someone he could keep from making an undoable mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” he began, “when I was just a little older than you, I tried to run away from home.” He was amused that she rolled her eyes the way Stephanie did whenever Vinnie Plum decided to lecture her about his grand, mostly bogus theories on bounty hunting best practices. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Undeterred, he continued, “My family is bigger than yours but there are only two boys. I’m a lot younger than my only brother, who was better in school and athletics than me. To be honest, I was skinny and small then. And my sisters didn’t have much use for me.” He shrugged, “I had some scheme that I’d make my way down to Miami where I have family, somehow making enough money that they couldn’t send me back.” He didn’t tell her that his money-making ideas involved boosting cars, which he’d already learned how to do. And some petty B&amp;E. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned back. “I probably watched too much TV. Because in retrospect I can see that my ideas were non-starters. At the very best, if I’d made it all the way to Miami, my five-foot grandma would’ve dragged me back to my family by the scruff of my neck.” At that, he could see amusement beginning to show itself on Angie’s stubborn face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried </span>
  </em>
  <span>to run away,” she said. “So why didn’t you make it to Miami?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the important part of the story, at least for tonight. “I got as far as Baltimore. At which point I’d run out of money faster than I thought I would. I really didn’t know how much things cost. A couple older guys I met on the way down said they’d help me make a quick buck. I was supposed to be a lookout for them, but really I was just a patsy. I didn’t get beat up too badly— no broken bones at least though I did need stitches— but of course the older guys got away while I got picked up by the local cops.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger was pleased to see that Angie seemed to be listening, so he continued. “That meant that my father had to take off work and drive all the way down from Newark to get me out of police custody, which took most of a day. Meanwhile I sat in lockup all day; all 130 pounds of me in a holding cell with grown-up gang bangers and wife beaters. I needed a few more stitches after that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have to fake his grim expression at that point. “My father managed to convince the cops to just issue a warning rather than charge me as a lookout. They probably figured I’d been scared straight already. Plus, I was probably too scrawny and clueless to actually be a criminal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angie blinked. “Were you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was a loaded question, which he preferred to dodge by being a bit more general, “I could’ve gone that way if I hadn’t been caught. It’s likely that, if I hadn’t gotten my attitude turned around in a sudden hurry, I would never have met your family and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I would’ve missed out on a lot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, Junior started to speak into his ear. “Just a moment,” he said to Angie, holding up his hand in a vague stop gesture. He then tapped on his ear microphone to activate it. “Status,” he said quietly, though in an all-business tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got the bastard,” Junior announced through Ranger’s earpiece with a pleased ring to his voice. “Slick has Jenkins in cuffs.” In the background, he could hear Slick swearing and the sound of metal ringing against metal, which was probably Slick shoving Jenkins against the side of a car. Meanwhile he heard Jenkins swear, shout that he was being attacked by a bunch of thugs, and demand they remove the cuffs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger pursed his lips, then shrugged. Well, that counted as having the man in cuffs in his books. Seeing Angie’s observant green eyes staring at him, he simply said, “Sounds good. Just bundle him back to the Trenton PD in the Bronco. Chester Deuce can bring me back, later.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do,” Junior replied, disconnecting in the efficient Rangeman manner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger returned his attention to Angie. “That was my team. They picked up the guy we were here to capture.” His lips relaxed in humor. “We still have a bit more time on our hands until your aunt gets here. So, one runaway to another, where were you planning to go tonight?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time she shook her head, her eyes slanting his way to telegraph that she completely saw through his attempt at connection. Then she reminded him of her youth by sniffling and rubbing her sleeve across her nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling her oversized coat closer around her, she said, “I thought maybe I could go live with my father back in California.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a really long bus ride,” he observed. In fact, by his calculation, it was almost three days on a bus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” she said, wiping her nose again. “It would be worth it. I hate it here with all this snow and cold. And everything is gray all the time. My school is old with junky desks and heating that makes noise all the time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see why California would seem nicer,” Ranger nodded. Despite his words he was certain that she had a more profound reason than the overcast Trenton winter. Playing along, he asked, “So does that mean you were planning to come back in the summer, when it’s warmer and sunny, and school’s out?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she retreated further back into her coat with another sniffle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger leaned back, stretching out his legs. He then recalled, “I remember when I ran away that time that </span>
  <span>I didn’t think anyone would miss me. Or, more realistically, they’d miss me after I was gone but </span>
  <span>it wouldn’t matter too much to them. What I found out was that it affected everyone in my family. And it really, deeply hurt my mother, which I didn’t intend or expect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked, her eyes a bit glassy under the station’s overhead lights. “Did your mother ever get over it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pursed his lips at memories from a time that he purposely didn’t revisit often. Images flashed through his mind like a slideshow of his naively rebellious adolescence, his time in Juvie, and his even more restrictive time exiled in Miami with his no-nonsense abuela. Ironically, he’d finally gotten to Miami, though not even slightly on his terms. Those were details that young Angie didn’t need to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he said, “We moved forward, my mother and I. It took quite a while before I had my parents’ trust again. It took work on my part, I won’t lie.” His lip quirked in self-conscious amusement. “I did learn that families accept you back even if they’re really angry at you. You’re part of them even though they might not show it the way you want. I also learned that parents have a lot going on and do the best they can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Angie frowned. “I don’t want to hurt my mom,” she said, looking down to where her hands were pulling at the hem of her c</span>
  <span>oat on her lap. “But everything’s different here. Nobody even pays attention to me anymore. Mom is with Albert now and has baby Lisa. And I understand that babies need a lot of attention but you’d think there would be a little left over.” Her lip pulled with obvious irritation. “Well, there is. But my sister Mary Alice gets all the left-over attention by pretending to be a horse. Which is just so annoying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger simply nodded, waiting for her to speak as though she were an informant giving their perspective on events. He had his own opinions about her family’s household but wanted to hear her thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments, she speared her gaze up at him, her eyes shadowed with the late hour and squinched with anger. “It doesn’t even matter that I still get good grades and was a hall monitor. And I even led the mini-Jambore</span>
  <span>e for our Girl Scouts troop.” She crossed her arms. “Mom just says ‘take care of your sisters’ like I don’t already. And Albert— who I ‘m supposed to call Daddy Albert, but I refuse— he never had kids so kinda treats us like pets or something. I mean... he pats me on the head!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jutted out her chin. “So, I’m happy that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>got through everything. But my family doesn’t even </span>
  <span>notice me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger nodded, pausing for a moment of thought. His family was different from the Plums. Further, he had certainly been different from this determined, rule-following girl in front of him. But perhaps he could give her advice based on what he knew of the Plums, overall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know your parents well,” he began. “But I know your grandparents through your Aunt Stephanie. From what I’ve seen, they don’t talk about what’s working well. Instead, they mobilize around things that seem like problems and try to fix them.” He didn’t think it was worth editorializing that their family efforts to fix things seemed to involve arguments over dinner— with the occasional waving of unlicensed firearms— rather than actual tactical planning and follow-through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing Angie’s eyes on him, he simply shrugged. “From what you say, it sounds like you’ve been doing all the right things. If your mother’s the same as her parents, maybe she’s paying attention but doesn’t say anything to you because you seem okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a breath, wishing he still had his coffee. He could see that Angie, looking down again at her hands, was processing what he said. That was a victory of sorts, since he had no illusions that he was good with youngsters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suppressed a smile, seeing Angie’s face echoing Stephanie’s “smoke from her ears” deep-thought expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she looked up, her eyes perhaps troubled, perhaps incredulous. “That’s just stupid!” she exclaimed loud enough to catch some nearby glances. More quietly she added, “Not what you said. Because that maybe explains things. But it’s stupid that Mom would ignore me because I’m being </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How would that ever turn out right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good question,” he admitted. “Sometimes people are just too busy, too distracted, to pay attention to everything. So they fall back to what they know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was something Ranger knew to be completely true. It was a theme running through his own life. It certainly explained his relationship with his own daughter. Who, he realized, was about the same age as the girl in front of him. And equally brave; perhaps equally overconfident. He made a vow to call his ex-wife about perhaps spending more time with his own possibly ignored daughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaken a bit by that observation, he missed Angie’s first words of reply. But he did catch her next ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess I’ve managed to give Mom a problem she’ll notice, huh?” Her lip twisted. “That’s gonna suck, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged again. “Things will probably be difficult or at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>different </span>
  </em>
  <span>between you for a while. But, she’ll come around. Like I said, families accept you even if they’re angry or confused.” With a burst of insight he found himself adding, “</span>
  <span>If things ever get to be too much, call your Aunt Stephanie. I know she’ll listen.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s one of the things she does best</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. He was always astonished at how much she listened to her skips, helping them on the side instead of just tossing them over the fence to the cops. Beyond that she really listened to the taciturn men in Rangeman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she always listened to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the girl’s guarded expression, eyes alert despite obvious exhaustion, Ranger took a breath before offering, “If you can’t reach her, call Rangeman and ask for me. They’ll always know where to find me. And I can always find your Aunt Stephanie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” she blinked. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then before she had a chance to say anything further— or before Ranger dove too much further down the midnight well of inconvenient feelings and promises— Stephanie’s voice cut through the station’s quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angie,” she called as she practically flew through the station to where they were seated. With a mouthed “Thank you” to Ranger, she barely slowed before propelling herself into the chair next to her niece. Enveloping the girl into a hug, she said, “Sweetie, I’m so glad you’re safe.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I guess,” Angie replied, her words muffled in her aunt’s coat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie straightened her arms, still holding Angie. Then she released one hand to wipe away tears that had snuck from her stubborn niece’s eyes. “We’re going to get you home, safe and sound. And I’ll stay there today too, so your mom can have someone else to yell at.” As she finished speaking, a frown line had formed between her brows. “What are you wearing? I thought I gave that old coat away, along with all of its cooties.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did. It just didn’t get to the Goodwill,” Angie admitted with a wry expression. “Grandma dry-cleaned it, though, so no cooties.” She paused as Stephanie snorted. Then, head tilted, she asked, “I know Mom’s gonna yell at me, but why would she yell at </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To get it out of her system,” Stephanie promptly replied. “If I’m there, your mom can do all the yelling and blaming and whatever that she needs while you only have to experience half of it. It’s a time-honored tradition in the Plum family.” While talking, Stephanie pulled off Angie’s lumpy hat, plumped up the girl’s hair, and then replaced the hat with what Ranger assumed was a far more stylish angle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finished up, adding, “Then after Val is done, she can bake a pineapple upside down cake and bring out the boxed candy to say she’s sorry that she yelled. Oh, and she’ll hover like a flustered hummingbird because she’s worried but doesn’t want to say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angie giggled, looking finally like the twelve-year-old she was. “She doesn’t do candy anymore. She puts out Keebler mini cookies and milk instead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even better,” Stephanie chuckled along with her niece. “Everything goes better with Keebler elves.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Ranger felt his eyebrow stuck in the upward position while he watched, marveling that Stephanie, in so few words, had turned her niece’s stubborn mood around. Angie still was going to have a challenging few days ahead of her— Ranger had no doubt of that— but she now had someone as fierce as her on her side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her ease in the situation made him wonder whether </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stephanie </span>
  </em>
  <span>had ever run away from home. But then, she was at ease in so many unexpected situations that tonight’s difficulty was probably just another entry in Stephanie Plum’s diary of managed mayhem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His earpiece carried Chester Deuce’s voice to his ear, letting Ranger know that he was still outside with the car. Ranger actually had to stifle a yawn at just the thought of heading back to Trenton and eventually to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to head back?” he asked, leaning forward to stand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back to the warm, comfy seats of your car?” Stephanie said while hugging her niece again. “You bet.” She stood and held her hand out to help Angie up. She then enveloped the girl under her arm. “Ranger has the world’s most comfortable cars. You’re in for a treat,” she enthused, while directing a quick wink Ranger’s way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” Angie replied, skepticism warring with tiredness in her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steered them toward Ray, letting him know that his team had caught the skip he’d been tracking. More importantly, he had Stephanie introduce herself. Within moments, of course, Ray was charmed. Angie affirmed that Stephanie was her aunt taking her home and so all was good in the world of bus station security. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They exited the station through the main glass doors, stepping into swirling needles of snow. Both Stephanie and Angie pulled their coats closed as Chester Deuce exited the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to drive?” he asked Ranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you go ahead,” he said, opening the passenger door for his two charges, ignoring Chester Deuce’s surprise. He didn’t usually ride shotgun in any car. But his vigil wasn’t over until he’d seen both Angie and Stephanie safely to their destination, which he could do better if he wasn’t concentrating on the road. Not to mention that he was tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where to?” Chester Deuce asked as he began driving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your place, Steph?” Ranger asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” she replied with a quick glance at her niece. “If we go to my place, Plum family luck says that this will be the one morning when someone will wake up early and discover that Angie is missing. At which point my sister Valerie will panic, air raid sirens will sound, and Angie’s face will be printed on milk cartons by 8 AM. Oh, and nobody will think to call me to figure out if I know anything until the Trenton PD has Eddie Gazzara stop by my place with donuts and coffee, which he does so I won’t yell at him for waking me up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angie burst out in giggles while Stephanie was still talking. Ranger managed to keep a straight face while ignoring the snorting sounds from the driver’s seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t we just call from your place?” Angie asked, obviously trying to postpone the inevitable. “I could stay for breakfast. Or maybe for like a week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, and how long would it take before your mom appears at my door after I call?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crestfallen, Angie nibbled at her lower lip. “Yeah, it would take like ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try five,” Stephanie said, reaching out to hug the suddenly very young looking girl. “Because you matter that much to her. Also, I know from experience that it’s possible to drive in pajamas and a bathrobe. They’d look funny with boots, but that wouldn’t stop Val.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angie smiled without answering. She then leaned against Stephanie, who continued talking with her tired, brown coated niece in a quiet murmur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spotting Chester Deuce’s sideways glance, Ranger said, “Head to Valerie Plum’s house.” His lip quirked slightly as he admitted that he’d gotten used to translating Stephanie’s commentary into Rangeman orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a bit of chatter, Angie fell asleep with her head on Stephanie’s lap. Shortly afterward, Stephanie began to snore in a graceful heap against the car door. Looking at the back seat he felt pride at his night’s work. He hadn’t done much, but still had shifted a bad situation into something hopeful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a quiet drive through the flurried snow, they passed Hank’s Rangeman car and pulled into Valerie’s driveway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched Stephanie lead Angie up to her sister’s front door, walking carefully in the sheet of new snow that carpeted the front walk. In the angled light from the street, he saw shallow, filled-in dints in the snow that were no-doubt left by Angie’s boots heading the other direction hours before. Hank should’ve spotted and reported them to Ram earlier, which he’d be sure to mention in his next conversation with the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, though, the older footprints were being obliterated by the steps Stephanie and Angie made back toward the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the door finally opened, Chester Deuce said, “She seems like a good kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranger nodded while watching Stephanie usher Angie inside around a flustered Valerie. Just before the door closed he spied Stephanie waving goodnight. His lips lifted in quiet pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s good you found her before she got into any trouble,” Chester Deuce added as he pulled away from the curb and headed back to Rangeman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is a good kid,” Ranger said. “And she’s in good hands.” He leaned back and relaxed into the curve of the car seat. Pulling out his cell phone, he thumbed his way to a picture of his daughter Julie. Chuckling quietly to himself, he recognized her lively, fiery expression as his own. But he also saw a hint of Angie’s willfulness as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scrolling to another picture of his daughter, he made plans to call her mother tomorrow and work out how he could have more frequent contact with his own fierce slip of a girl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- The End - </span>
  </em>
</p>
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